I’m a terrible human being.
Seriously, I’m not a nice person. At least, not right now I’m not. Why am I doing this? I know I shouldn’t be and yet I can’t stop it!
It’s weird to look back and think about where you were a year ago.
Or where you were two years ago compared to last year. It’s strange to see how much things can change in such a small amount of time. How your relationships with people, goals in life, state of being, and even your view on the world can become drastically different. Two years ago I was starting my first relationship. I was falling in love. A year from that point the love, or what I had deemed love at the time, was gone. I had moved on and started to question why I spent 11 months with a guy who made me miserable half the time. I was on a “single-and-loving-it” kick, making out with random boys and at the same time, falling for my best friend. Cliche, I know, but true. The only problem is, no one could know. It was a secret. Not that people didn’t figure it out. And this year, I’ve been deceived and used by one too many boys. My trust has been broken and yet despite my better judgement, I’m involved with a boy and honestly have no clue where we really stand. I don’t know how to feel. My emotions are a roller coaster, probably because it seems I’ve already given my heart to him, whether a conscious decision or not. I’m done being single, and really, just want someone I can call and talk to at the end of the day.
Life is funny, isn’t it? It changes day by day and by the time a year had passed, we’re almost completely different people. I know who I was last year and who I am this year, yet the question remains, who will I be next year?
A birthday musing.
So, for those of you who are unaware, as a general rule, I hate birthdays.
Most people don’t understand this and get really upset. But why shouldn’t I?
I’ve had some truly shitty birthdays in the past. Namely, my 16th birthday, which I broad-casted and yet no one remembered, and my 18th, which just wound up being an epic fail.
Today, however, was awesome. Like seriously. Every single person who wished me a happy birthday, be it by text, on Facebook, or in person, just kept me happy all day long. My roommate & suitemates put balloons and candy all over my bed, which was a wonderful surprise after chemistry. And then spending time with my boy toy just made it even better. I like him. I like him a lot, actually. I haven’t liked someone this much in a while.
Overall, I would deem today a successful birthday. I’m quite the happy camper.
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Sometimes I wish I was a ballerina. Like a true ballerina. Like someone who was beautiful and graceful and skinny and felt weird wearing anything but pointe shoes. Someone who lived in leotards and tutus and was always in some sort of production and had been in The Nutcracker every Christmas for as long as she could remember. Someone who takes dance classes all day long and is in the running for big name ballet companies across the nation. I wish I was a prima ballerina.
(Source: candytomysoul, via lovingdancer)
Posted November 9, 2011 at 10:17pm in ballet ballerina photography black and white dance dancer tutu pointe pointe shoes personal musing
